


Contrast

by PhantomWriter



Series: Vestige [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Ukitake cards his hair and spots the few strands of black that rest in stark contrast with the white.
Relationships: Hitsugaya Toushirou & Ukitake Juushirou, Kyouraku Shunsui/Ukitake Juushirou
Series: Vestige [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747750
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	Contrast

**Author's Note:**

> wow, previous related work was 2 yrs ago lol

It was an inconspicuous thing, noticeable only when he stared at it closely in his reflection. 

Ukitake carded his hair and spotted the few strands of black that rested in stark contrast with the white. He stared at it curiously; interesting, but also odd. Unsure how to go about with it, he went on combing and forgot about the little discovery until three days later. 

It was Kiyone who pointed it out—well, more like stared at him for almost a minute and flushed in embarrassment when Ukitake asked her gently what was wrong. 

“N-Nothing, Captain,” Kiyone said, flustered. Ukitake raised an eyebrow patiently. “Um,” she tried again, “your hair, it’s, uh...”

“Oh, this.” Ukitake took a good look at the tips of his hair and could see plenty of black hair than the last time. “I don’t know, really. They just appeared. Do they look that bad?”

“No, of course not, Captain! You still look good, like always! It doesn’t matter what the color of your hair is! To me, you’re—”

Sentaro smacked her on the head. “Oi, don’t shout at the Captain! You disrespectful idiot—”

The interruption seemed to have the opposite effect of toning down the noise, seeing as his Third Seats began their usual banter, the first of many for the day. Ukitake amusedly left them to it. They wouldn’t notice him gone once they were at it, after all. Made you think if there was something beyond their antagonism against each other. 

For as long as Ukitake knew them, though, it would probably take them another half a century to realize. 

It wasn’t after lunch that Ukitake found himself in front of the mirror to observe. Indeed, the black parts of his hair were starting to stand out and couldn’t be hidden. It was as if he spilled ink at one spot of his head and the stain refused to be washed out. 

Ukitake wasn’t one to care too much for physical appearance, though he admitted that he looked rather odd with the seemingly bad dye job. 

It was a blessing, he supposed, that he was under a month of probation under the Captain-Commander’s orders. At least it was a valid excuse to stay within the barracks, and for once it wasn’t about his sickness. 

Speaking of which, now that he thought about it, he was yet to have an attack since he returned. He would have thought that the abrupt transition from being dead and not-dead (though technically, they were all _dead_ in Soul Society but you get his point) would put a strain on his delicate constitution. But when Captain Kotetsu had checked on him, she had found out that he was in much better health than before. And while Ukitake didn’t want to jinx it, there was truly a lack of restrictiveness in his regular breathing. 

Still, it hadn’t been enough for Kyōraku to let him off the hook and practically made it a formal command that Ukitake refrain from performing his duties for thirty days. Orders were orders, and Ukitake was nothing but a follower. 

“Having cabin fever already?” Kyōraku commented idly later one evening when the dark stain on Ukitake’s hair somehow grew in size like an irregular patch. For someone who should be resting in his own division, Kyōraku was keen to keep his tradition of drinking at night and traveling all the way from the First Division to the farthest barracks. “I thought you would like the house arrest.” 

“Is this what it is?” Ukitake asked wryly. “No, it’s not cabin fever.” At Kyōraku’s pointed stare at the left side of Ukitake’s head, the latter sighed. “I know. It looks silly.”

“I’m not judging,” Kyōraku said with a hint of a grin. “One would think you’d spend the month off reading books or something, not,” he made a vague hand gesture at Ukitake’s direction, “Isn’t it a bit late for the rebellious stage?”

“It’s not intentional,” Ukitake huffed. “I don’t know when it started exactly. Maybe last week. It was few at first then it spread like this.”

Kyōraku was thoughtful for a second. “Heh. Must be the sign of aging. You know, when you’re supposed to get streaks of white hair, but since yours is already white, it’s black instead.”

Ukitake wasn’t sure how that could be possible, though so far it was the most logical explanation he heard of. Aside from the other one, that was. “Actually, I’m thinking that maybe it has something to do with what happened.” At Kyōraku’s silence, he elaborated, “When you took me back from Mimihagi-sama’s realm.”

“Ah, could be.” Kyōraku placed down his cup. “How are you feeling lately?” he asked seriously. 

“Never been better, to be honest. Recently, I've been able to spend and appreciate the early mornings properly despite the cold weather,” Ukitake shared enthusiastically. “It’s like I can breathe more fully than before and can stay outdoors for a longer period of time.” 

Was this how having a set of healthy lungs felt like? He didn’t dare hope for much since he was whisked away from Mimihagi. At the back of his mind, he knew he had been disrespectful of the god who had been generous to him in life and the afterlife. Though was it far-fetched to think that Mimihagi granted him a functioning pair of organs as a parting gift? 

Ukitake could probably ask. 

“How about you? You’re the one who willingly entered his place,” he said. “Aren’t there any, ah, side effects on you?”

“Now that you mentioned it, there’s some creaking in my hips lately,” Kyōraku said. “But that’s not probably what you mean. I don’t know. As far as I know, I am intact even if I did offer everything else of me except my eye—don’t look at me like that. It was par for the course.”

That was true, but still. “What if Mimihagi took you up to it?” Ukitake couldn’t help but ask. 

“Business as usual for him, I guess.” Kyōraku shrugged. “We lucked out that Mimihagi honored fair trade, eh?”

Ukitake sighed. What was done was done. Besides, he didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the second chance. “I never did thank you for that,” he whispered. “Thank you for taking me back,” he told him, smiling sincerely. 

Kyōraku hummed behind his cup. “If I remember correctly, you already expressed your gratitude enough.” He smirked. “In front of the Captains and officers even. It was rather scandalous of the esteemed Captain Ukitake,” he teased. 

Ukitake reddened at the memory. It had been a spur of the moment thing born out of tremendous relief and self-realization that took a long time coming! And he thought Kyōraku would understand, but then again it was him; Ukitake figured that Kyōraku of all people loved the grand attention. 

“Not that I’m complaining. I certainly won’t mind another ‘thank you’ if it’s of the same kind.”

“No,” Ukitake said firmly, looking away determinedly. 

“Please?” 

“No, Kyōraku, what—”

“I’m not asking you to do so in public. I’m fine with a peck after a long hard day of work.” Oh, great, he was pouting now. “Please?”

Ukitake supposed it wouldn’t hurt. It might take some adjusting knowing he had to reciprocate Kyōraku’s affection that was more than the usual after their new—set up? 

“Yes, yes, you win,” he conceded with an indulgent sigh. 

His answer was a head that fell on his shoulder and quiet snoring of the comfortable weight leaning against his side. 

Ukitake could only smile fondly. 

* * *

Tying his hair the same way he had it a century ago did the trick, and by then half of his head was black and the other white. Ukitake wasn’t sure whether he should be grateful for the symmetry or be alarmed at the rapid pace his hair was turning dark. 

Ukitake felt guilty that it took him two weeks since his return to finally find Rukia since she took over his duties while he was on leave; rather, she had been taking over right after she recovered as to not leave the division leaderless. Ukitake owed her just as much for the responsibilities she took without question while he was gone. 

He did stop by to find her with the intention of coaxing Rukia to assign him with tasks that he could do, however small. While she was glad to see him though, she refused to ask him for any assistance, apologizing profusely and insisting that she was merely following orders from someone higher than Ukitake. He knew he lost when she pulled out her stubbornness she likely got from her brother. 

Honestly, Ukitake didn’t know whether to take Kyōraku’s orders the wrong way seeing as he was being treated as a disabled which he was far from one. At least, not anymore. Bummed, Ukitake left the premises of the division, mind wandering. 

On the bright side, he has two weeks left, and in that length of time, he could determine the extent of his present state of health. He ought to look for something to give to Rukia, too, for all her hard work while he was out of commission. Actually, he needed to give incentive to the whole division for their endurance and dedication.

The outskirts of Seireitei seemed to have recovered quickly, and the shops that lined the borders of Rukongai were already standing, mostly stalls of food that catered to the people working on the reconstruction. 

He wondered if that store Rukia frequented for the Chappy merchandise was already open. Ukitake could think of nothing short than a giant Chappy for her, though a size that big could be daunting for the rebuilding Seiretei. Three small stuffed toys the size of a pillow, perhaps? 

Ukitake hadn’t been out long when he thought he spotted a familiar white hair amongst the crowd. He seemed to be noticed as well just as he called out.

“Ukitake?” Hitsugaya was surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Tōshirō-kun,” Ukitake greeted with a smile. “I’m looking around. You?” 

Hitsugaya seemed embarrassed to be caught with a basket of food, mostly of fruits and sweets. He cleared his throat at his initial reaction. “Fine. I was planning to visit you. Matsumoto forgot to get me what I asked her so I had to make the run myself,” he said gruffly. “It looks like you’re better now.”

“I’ve been better since I came back.” Ukitake smiled, touched at Hitsugaya’s thoughtfulness. “I haven’t eaten yet, Tōshirō-kun. Care to join me for lunch? That is if you don’t have any pressing matters you need to get back to immediately.”

There clearly was, but Hitsugaya said, “I can spare an hour.”

“Excellent! My Division is nearer. We can have lunch there.”

They shared a long pleasant span of silence that Ukitake was honestly not expecting. Tōshirō, even with all his seriousness and his astonishing feats, was still a child. It was natural for him to be inquisitive and hotheaded; like young Byakuya, Ukitake recalled delightfully, though Tōshirō was probably better at reigning his emotions than the noble, and with a better grasp of maturity for around the same age. 

Case in point: Tōshirō was set on not asking questions even if Ukitake could practically sense them radiating from the younger man. If Ukitake was to hazard a guess, the questions ranged from _‘What are you doing moving about?’_ to _‘What happened to your hair?’_

The latter, Ukitake believed, was what Tōshirō was the most curious about given how he was pointedly staring at it and tenaciously refrained from asking. 

“I was under orders to resume my duties after a month of rest. And I can safely say I’ve rested plenty. Staying indoors could only do so much, especially when one is feeling healthy,” Ukitake suddenly said. “Ah, as for my hair, I don’t really know the cause of it. I’m not even sure when it started exactly.” 

“... I see.” Hitsugaya frowned on his tea when he registered what he was told. “Sorry. I didn't mean to stare.”

“I know,” Ukitake agreed with a quiet laugh. “But it does stand out, no? A week or so later, there won’t be any white in them,” he said wistfully. “Hm. No one could mistake us as relatives now, I think, or a father and son.” 

Hitsugaya almost choked on his drink, hiding his embarrassment. He was fully aware of the rumors that started some time ago that he must be the Captain Ukitake’s secret son from some sordid affair with a pretty Rukongai hostess or a low-ranked officer of the Gotei—it was unclear and varied depending on the source. Many were under the impression that it explained Hitsugaya’s brilliance as a young prodigy. 

Hitsugaya knew too well where such rumors originated, and he took responsibility by defending Ukitake’s integrity and not allowing anyone to besmirch his name within Hitsugaya’s hearing range lest they find themselves with a penalty. It didn’t help, though, that Matsumoto was far from threatened, and while the then Captain Kyōraku would claim that Ukitake would never dishonor a lady that way, he would laugh like it was a prime joke.

Which it probably was. 

“I suppose not,” he muttered. “Not that I minded to be associated with a respected senior, but more than anything, it must be a testament of your return from… wherever it was that you came from.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Mimihagi’s realm,” Ukitake told him. “I did accept my fate to become a part of Mimihagi, except I was thrown back there instead. Next thing I knew, Kyōraku had a hand in it. I didn’t expect him to pull that kind of stunt, and it wasn’t something I’d approve of either if he told me beforehand, but I’m glad that he went all his way to get me back.”

Hitsugaya let out what sounded a snort. “The new Captain-Commander does have a penchant for making crucial decisions without consulting any of us,” he said wryly. 

Ukitake sensed the bitterness in his tone, prompting him to ask, “Do you hate him for what he did?” 

“It’s irrelevant whether I like him or not,” Hitsugaya said shortly. “Asking Aizen for aid got the job done in keeping Soul Society intact.”

“It did, but the wounded pride had to be acknowledged too, especially when it was what we had left after our first defeat,” Ukitake said softly. “It was understandable to be offended, Captain Hitsugaya. I am not here to defend the Captain-Commander’s actions, but you have to know that I understood why he had to, not because he’s a close friend of mine but because I am a captain as well and keeping this place together is the duty we all share equally.” 

Hitsugaya was silent for a moment, eyes distant before a defeated realization occurred to him. “That explained it,” he said. “I doubt that if you were against it in the first place, he would consider that decision. Your opinion was all that mattered; simply put, damn the rest but you,” he added bluntly. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Hitsugaya continued at the flash of guilt that crossed Ukitake’s face; it was clear that he had no answer to that. “You’re right: I was offended, still am, to be honest, but I can respect what he did. I can respect that the Captain-Commander Kyōraku cares greatly for someone beyond the bounds of duties and responsibilities. He’s still new on the position, and there will be more crises to avert under his leadership, but for now, I’m glad that you’re back to stand behind him as his confidant and support.”

Ukitake remained speechless even as Hitsuguya began standing up and bid his goodbye after the hour that passed fleetingly. “I look forward to another lunch with you in the future, Captain Ukitake, if you’ll have me.”

Ukitake smiled, face softening. “Of course,” he managed to finally say. “Good afternoon, Captain Hitsugaya.”

He watched him exit the division in a flash of steps and thought that he made a grave mistake. 

Tōshirō was not that child he saw him as anymore. 

* * *

It was the same tranquil surface of the vast waters that greeted him. 

Except there was a palpable change in the air, or rather, the lack of a prominent presence that had been with him far earlier than when he first discovered his inner world and consequently, Sōgyo no Kotowari. 

There used to be a shadow that enwreathed him and this sanctuary. It was never invasive, though an entity that the twins accepted as part of them too. They knew it was there with nary a face or a physical form, and yet its absence was just as noticeable. 

Ukitake gathered the twin boys in his arms, missing them as much as they did him, and while a part of him that used to be Mimihagi was truly gone for good, he was enormously grateful to keep this part at least. 

“I missed you too, boys.”

* * *

Ukitake gingerly laid the arranged flowers at the altar and lit the incense next. It was the closest to paying respect that he could think of.

He bowed deep in front of the shrine of the fist with a single eye. “Thank you, Mimihagi-sama, for the days that you’ve given me.” 

Ukitake decided to make the visit a habit from then on. 

* * *

It was in the evening that he was struck with an inspiration of going to the First Division instead that he first noticed it. 

There was a lovely small gazebo beside the headstone where his name was carved. Although it never escaped his mind that there was a considerable length of time that he had been considered dead, it hardly occurred to him that he had been mourned with shed tears and regretful goodbyes. They had grieved for one of the oldest captains that they had thought would survive another war. 

Ukitake had been lost to some people, some who had learned to move on and some who had never accepted it. 

He crouched down and couldn’t help but touch the dried bouquets that littered his grave. He could only imagine the sorrow that accompanied the visits here. Now he was back without preamble, and he thought he didn’t deserve those kind gestures after disrupting the progress they made so far.

Ukitake carefully stood straighter and glanced at his left. “Lieutenant Ise,” he called. 

“Sir,” Nanao said. “Pardon me. I didn’t want to intrude so I did not announce myself.” She bowed respectfully. “Are you on your way to the Captain-Commander?”

“I am.” He nodded at her. “And you’re on your way home. I do not wish to keep you. Kyōraku told me you’ve been working hard and late. Would you like me to escort you to your place?”

“There’s no need, sir,” she declined politely with a small smile that vanished when her eyes darted to the headstone. “Apologies that you have to see it, Captain. With all that has been going on, we might have forgotten to remove it.”

“Please don’t apologize. It is of no offense to me. Nobody knew I would return,” he reasoned. 

“Except Captain Kyōraku,” she supplied. 

“Yeah, except him,” he agreed, smiling fondly. Ukitake was thoughtful for a second, inclining his head with a sudden idea. “It’ll be useless to have my name there so I’ll be making a request to change it into the names of the fallen officers of the Gotei. That way, they could be honored this close to their respective divisions. If they don’t fit in one headstone, we’ll add another.”

“Certainly, sir,” Nanao said, fixing her glasses. “We can have it arranged first thing in the morning.” She paused, adding, “The others would love that too, Captain Ukitake.”

They parted without further words aside from the bid of a pleasant evening. Nanao looked like she needed her rest as soon as possible given the double hard work she was giving compared to when Kyōraku had been in the Eight. 

Ukitake considered it a victory when he saw that her apparent tension eased off of her shoulders when she left. 

* * *

When Ukitake strolled into the Captain-Commander’s office, a jug of sake with him and his mismatched hair that was mostly black with a couple of streaks of white flowing down his back freely, he was aware that he completely captured Kyōraku ’s attention.

“My, my, it seems that a handsome brunet is here to entice me away from work with his good looks and alcohol,” Kyōraku teased once Ukitake across from him. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Captain?”

“Can’t I just visit you instead of you going all the way to the other end of Seireitei?” Ukitake asked. “And you’re right. It must be cabin fever since I often find myself restless and wanting to stretch my legs.” 

“I bet.” Kyōraku sent a lopsided grin. “But if you’re here looking to lessen your days, no can do. It’s not a sentence, Ukitake. You’ll be back in no time.”

“I’m sure the remaining three days will be quick,” Ukitake replied dryly. At Kyōraku’s suspiciously raised eyebrow, Ukitake rolled his eyes. “I’m only here to accompany you and drink while you work.”

“Oh, dear. How the tables have turned. I thought that was my job before. Look at us now. Look at _you_. This isn’t part of your rebellious phase, is it?”

Ukitake shook his head amusedly. Expect Kyōraku to be dramatic about it. “This isn’t a phase, Kyōraku, this is the real me,” he humored him. 

Kyōraku’s grin went wider as if there was something funny at the requisition form he was signing. He stamped his approval at the bottom and filed the paper away as he took another good look at his companion. “Kidding aside, I must say that the dark hair suits you. Makes you look like a new person.” 

A new person, huh? That was partly true, wasn’t it? Technically, it was new that he wasn’t sharing his body anymore to a part of the Soul King. Ukitake was wholly his own person this time. It was a massive change that never occurred to him once. 

It wasn’t just him either who had undergone their own changes in the last few months. Ichigo-kun and Tōshirō-kun were good examples of the young ones growing too fast in the eyes of the older ones around them. In a blink of an eye, they exponentially grew out of the Gotei’s initial perception of them and flourished in their own impressive way. 

Kyōraku too, Ukitake supposed when he took in his single gray eye, his eyepatch, his clipped right ear, and the thin streaks of gray hairs amidst the brown. Almost all of his frivolity was siphoned out of his person by the war and his new position. He might seem to be the same Kyōraku, but Ukitake could name the nuances like the additional sharp edges and the hardened bearing from the numerous loss of comrades, a dear mentor, and… him. 

Compared to the changes of those around him, Ukitake’s could hardly compare. What was the color of his hair compared to that? Not to mention, it was a preferable sign of old age than any. 

Ukitake smiled privately to himself. He was worrying over an inconsequential little thing. 

“One can only tolerate the forms from the Eleventh Division with a straight face,” Kyōraku interrupted with a wince. He peered at Ukitake who he noticed staring. “I hope you’re not taking delight in my pain.”

“Of course not,” Ukitake said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I love you, Shunsui.”

Kyōraku managed to ruin the paper with a sudden dark stroke of ink across the page. He disregarded the paper that was far from salvation. “Ah. You really have to put it out there.”

“I don’t think I’ve said it aloud before so I’m saying it now,” Ukitake said calmly, pouring himself another one. 

“Right.” Kyōraku blinked, seemingly catching himself and setting aside the ruined paper in what he called the ‘rejected pile’. “For what it’s worth, me too.”

It wasn’t long when the Captain-Commander was finally done for the night and joined the Thirteenth Captain in his drinking. 

They made a toast to good health, prosperity, and lifelong relationships.

* * *

When they announced his entry and parted the doors for him, what entered the meeting was a tall man with freshly-shorn black hair and wearing the _haori_ of the Thirteenth Division. 

“Welcome back, Captain,” the Captain-Commander said with a proud grin and a covert wink.

Ukitake didn’t miss it though, beaming. “It’s good to be back.”


End file.
